


Heist on Yormot

by keysburg



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Axi-tun, F/M, Gen, KLKLK, KT'KN, Krylorians, Peter being a lady's man, Peter being a thief, Prequel, Rajak, Siris - Freeform, The Eclector, Xandar, Yormot, brood, canon violence, lots of comic references, movie universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysburg/pseuds/keysburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, down to business.” Yondu continued. “There’s a gizmo. A gadget. A thingamabob. We have a buyer for it, and you’re going to go steal it.”</p><p>“And where am I stealing this gadget from?” Peter asked.</p><p>“From Yormot. In a vault, of course, but we have an inside man. So to speak.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heist on Yormot

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel story to Guardians of the Galaxy featuring that Rajak girl with a fork.

Peter signaled the Eclector that he was coming in. The hatch opened and he piloted his ship, the Milano, into the carrier ship. He was a little uneasy about coming back to the ship that had been his home for so long. He had been trying to make it on his own lately. But if he didn’t do a job for Yondu or with the Ravagers every so often, Yondu started grumbling about letting the crew hunt him down and eat him after all. Peter had been threatened with that fate for over 20 years. He suspected, just a bit, that Yondu might follow through if he stopped being a profitable Ravagers member. He landed the Milano on the flight deck inside the Eclector, alongside the other M-ships. He took his time going up to the command deck. Whatever Yondu summoned him for, there was a good chance he wouldn’t like it.

“Peter, boy! There you are. You took your sweet time getting here, I see. You’re an hour late. Good thing I told you to be here 12 hours before we actually needed you. If you blow this deal for us, I might let the boys eat your tasty flesh after all!” Yondu Udonta, leader of the Ravagers, was doing that thing where he pretended he was mad. Peter could tell he wasn’t actually mad, because Yondu’s sonic-directed arrow remained in its sheath. After a moment of glaring at him, Yondu actually broke into a toothy grin and hugged Peter. 

“C’mon, my boy. We hijacked a shipment last week that had 16 cases of Terran whiskey aboard, your favorite. Let’s get some into you while I explain the job that’s going to make us all rich!”

Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. Yondu wouldn’t be trying so hard to lower his defenses if this was a job Peter was going to like. There wasn’t much of a choice though. If he had ignored Yondu’s summons, he’d probably put another bounty on him. And now that he was here there was little to do but go along with Yondu’s plan and hope it wouldn’t be too painful.

They went to Yondu’s private quarters on the level directly below the command deck. Waiting in the sitting room outside his bunk room was his first mate, Kraglin. Kragiln had already opened a bottle of whiskey and poured three glasses. He wouldn’t have been first mate very long without an ability to anticipate the needs of his temperamental captain.

“Welcome home, Peter!” he said, as he always did, handing him a glass.

“Thanks, bro. What else did you guys get with this score?” Peter downed the finger of whiskey right away and reached for the bottle.

“Oh, nothing on that list you gave me, Peter.” Kraglin said. “Just your typical luxury goods and a whole lot of that KLKLK web some traders like to make silk out of. Nothing else Terran.”

“That’s because the only good things that’ve ever come from Terra are this whiskey and our boy here!” Yondu laughed. Yondu was complimenting him. Peter was in deep trouble. “So, down to business.” Yondu continued. “There’s a gizmo. A gadget. A thingamabob. We have a buyer for it, and you’re going to go steal it.”

“And where am I stealing this gadget from?” Peter asked.

“From Yormot. In a vault, of course, but we have an inside man. So to speak.”

“Yormot? Isn’t that the planet with those huge squiggly Sirus things with ten tentacles apiece? And isn’t it mostly water?” Peter asked.

“Eh, its only slightly more water than Terra. The vault is above water anyway. Being a technocratic society, only those who know and use and make their technological adaptations can live above water. Most of those squirmy fuckers have yet to wiggle their way out of the swamp. The ones that have, though, are dicks. They think they know everything and they’d sell their own mother to get ahead in their society… such as it is.” said Yondu.

“But you should be more worried about the smell!” Kraglin chuckled. “The atmo is twelve percent methane from the tropical plant life. You can breathe it, but who would want to?” Peter started to relax a bit.

“So, you want me to go to a noxious swamp planet filled with huge, squiggly, ruthless life forms and steal something with an inside man. That sounds… more straightforward than usual, Yondu.” Peter said.

“Well it is straightforward! I was doing you a favor when I set up this one! It’ll be a piece of cake. Really.” Yondu grinned his toothy grin at Peter again, but there was clearly something he was leaving out.

“Who is this inside man, then?” Peter asked. “Someone you inserted or someone we’re buying off?’

“Well, that is the thing.” said Yondu. “Technically, its both. Someone has been inserted but they belong to another interested party. We’re going to split the sale with them, 50-50.”

“Ooookay.” Peter said slowly. “And the other interested party is..?”

“Well, they are raghabmsum.” Yondu turned away, muttering.

“I didn’t catch that. Level with me guys, who is it?” Peter asked.

“Well, Peter, they are Rajaks.” said Kraglin.

“You’ve got be fucking kidding me!” Peter yelled. “Those space pirates!?! Talk about sell your own mother, those assholes would slit their baby sister’s throats and drain her at your feet if they thought they’d get something for it! What are we doing, nuking the entire planet from orbit to get this one gadget?”

“Now, Peter, as much as you like to pretend sometimes, you’re still a Ravager.” said Kraglin. “We’re basically space pirates ourselves. You shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”

“Oh please.” Peter snorted. “Yeah, we steal shit, whatever we get our hands on, but we’ve never wiped all the life on a planet to plunder its resources. Okay, occasionally someone gets dead but its not like we are genocidal maniacs! Like the mother-fucking RAJAKS!” Peter’s voice grew louder until he was shouting.

“THAT WILL BE ENOUGH, DAMN YOU!” Yondu stood up and shouted back at him. “This is a job that stands to makes us a hefty profit. They don’t have the skill set to crack the safe and we don’t have access, so that makes us partners. They will get you in, and you will crack the safe. There aren’t that many resources on Yormot. The Siris culture actually develops enough technology to make it worthwhile for the Rajaks to steal instead of murder and plunder. Not that you should care. You better not be going soft on us. I’ll kick your ass from here to the end of the quadrant if you turn sissy on us.” Yondu ended this with a sneer.

“Yeah, but a ruthless band of thugs like that will still try to kill me rather than hand over our half of the money. It's nothing new, but I prefer it to only be one possible outcome to a job instead of pretty much guaranteed,” Peter protested.

“That’s why I set up the sale, boy. They don’t know where it is, just like we don’t know where the gadget is. You will take their inside man to the sale and I damn well expect you to be smart enough not to get killed after the exchange goes down! They’re gettin’ here soon, and I can’t have you mouthin’ off in front of them, so shut up already and let me explain you the sale details. You’ll have to memorize them.”

About ten hours later, after a meal and a restless nap, Peter stood decked out in full Ravager gear on the flight deck, next to Yondu. They watched silently as the Rajak ship entered. Just before the doors open, Yondu turned to Peter.

“There was one thing I didn’t mention, boy.” Peter could see the other shoe about to drop. “The Rajak “inside man” is technically female. We’ll see if your charm works on one of the most ruthless races in the galaxy!” Yondu was still chuckling to himself as the ship’s door opened. Peter’s only reaction to this news was to shift his weight slightly. Where he had been standing with his weight equal on both feet, shoulders back, ready for a fight, he relaxed his shoulders, leaned his weight a little on his right foot, and cocked his hips forward. Finally he understood why Yondu wanted him for this job. There were other Ravagers that were charming and smooth, and there were others that could crack a safe. Some were even smart enough to dodge the inevitable double cross after the sale was made. But he was probably the only one who possessed all of those skill sets. He left his face passive, curious to see this female Rajak.

It was a good thing he set his face carefully. First came a male and a pretty typical one. Green skin, muscular, deep-set black eyes behind double ridged cheekbones, hairy but bald on his head. Just a little shorter than Peter himself, he was dressed in tanned leathers similar to what the Ravagers wore, but black. His face was set like he had smelled something unpleasant and his thin lips pressed together. Behind him was the female and HOLY SHIT. She had the same green skin and deep-set black eyes, but her muscular frame was rounded in all the right places. Instead of the bald look she had short, spiky black hair that brought out her eyes and full lips. She had skipped the space pirate wardrobe and was wearing a short, sleeveless, grey uniform-type dress that probably passed for business casual on Yormot. Her nose was pierced, as were her ears in several places, and she was smoking hot. He carefully watched her as they walked up and was rewarded with a glimpse of what might look like a garter but was definitely a thigh holster for something, mostly likely a blade. He wouldn’t have respected a pirate who went aboard another’s ship without a weapon of some kind.

“Greetings, Yondu Udonta of the Ravagers,” said the male “I, M’kee, of the Rajak Confederation Beta Prime have arrived as previously agreed. Please meet my daughter, Katriel, who is to be our agent in this matter.” Yondu nodded and started to introduce Peter but with this latest twist - this was no mere female Rajak, but the daughter of the Confederation leader - Peter decided he had enough of the way Yondu handled things. 

He stepped forward, offering Katriel is hand, and said “Pleased to meet you, Katriel. Peter Jason Quill, at your service.” Katriel regarded him coolly but returned the gesture. Peter shook her hand, squeezing very gently. She didn’t respond when he stroked his fingers along her palm as he withdrew. This might be tough.

When they landed on Yormot a day later, they were met by a customs agent. A squiggly, ten-foot wide Siris customs agent. He looked so much to Peter like a giant loogie that had developed tentacles to slime all over his ship. Maybe a foot high, it dragged itself back and forth across the floor by stretching out a tentacle, attaching a few suckers, and releasing its other suckers to be pulled towards where it had attached. He had seen something like it back on Terra, called an octopus. This was much larger than the one-foot long specimen he had seen at an aquarium, and it was the light yellow-green of the mucus Peter had coughed up during a chest infection. Once the agent was convinced there was no foreign vegetation aboard the Milano they were finally permitted to dock in the spaceport proper. (Like Peter ate vegetables willingly, when vitamin shots were available.)

“Being tropical, the Siris can’t allow foreign vegetation to take root here. It could destroy the native ecosystem.” said Katriel in response to Peter’s grumblings at the search. “Besides, its not like it slimed up your pristine ship. The slime will stick to the dirt and grease and when you peel it off, this place will be cleaner than… ever before, I’m guessing.” Katriel had not warmed up to Peter. He had hoped that once he got her away from her father she’d be more receptive to his attentions, but she remained equally distant through the planning and trip over to Yormot. She ignored all his conversational gambits. Sometimes when she looked at him, he could almost see her trying to figure out how to kill him.

“Okay, one more time. Let’s hear it.” she said, as they gathered equipment and prepared to leave the ship.

“I got it.” Peter said. “You’ve been gone on vacation. We met on the beach. When you realized I was the heir to a principality on Tun, you decided your vacation romance was true love. But you have to finish out the two months on your contract, so you brought your new husband to work to show him off. I get why this would be believable to the status obsessed Siris, but is it really a good idea for me to pretend to be Axi-tun? If anyone asks me to manipulate electricity or force, we’re screwed.”

“The Siris are uninterested in things that don’t affect them directly.” Katriel told him for at least the third time. “And the Axi-tun are just obscure enough that they will recognize the name without remembering any of the significant details. As they have never traded with Tun, they will be more interested in trying to determine if a relationship would be valuable or if hosting an ambassador would gain them status. Just remember, you can’t make any decisions until you actually inherit your position. Now shut up and concentrate on looking regal.” Peter shifted uncomfortably in his disguise of Tun aristocrat. The long open robe over the loose tunic was decorated with criss-crossing straps they had added and easily concealed his safe cracking gear. But he did NOT want to know where Katriel got it. Or what happened to its previous owner. He ran his hand down the loose breeches, feeling the quad blasters in their holsters strapped directly to his legs underneath. Yormot was too warm for even the thinnest of underlayers, and the air was thick with humidity, making the heat more oppressive. His disguise was lightweight but he was definitely going to chafe under the leather straps of the holsters, particularly with the sweat sliding down his skin. The plan didn’t require blasters, but he wasn’t going anywhere without them.

He set the door open-close-lock sequence and stood in front of the circular opening. Katriel came over and… attached herself to him. She ducked under his left arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. Her right arm went around his waist. Her body melted against his and her face took on a goofy grin. Her muscled form felt good against him, but Peter took a deep breath and stood tall. When the doors opened, Katriel began a twittering monologue, speaking in an exciting voice about the spaceport. Peter didn’t really listen as she indicated points of interest and they walked from the ship to the building where she worked, where the gadget was. He concentrated instead on strolling with a casual nonchalance, his face set in an expression of amused tolerance. Kraglin had been correct, the methane in the atmosphere gave the place a distinct… fart-like smell. It reminded Peter of the smell of cow manure that had filled the school bus every day back at home in Missouri. He had smelled much worse since, so he concentrated on looking haughty and important on the way to the building.

The Siris security staff gave Peter a hard time. This wasn’t unexpected, as catching an intruder was one of the few ways a security squirmer could move up. Since Katriel had gotten him on the list he wasn’t searched, but he was subjected to a long set of tedious questions. He answered them all with a bored affectation and eventually they were permitted to continue to the elevator. Katriel stuck to his midsection the entire way, smiling at him in the simpering manner she had adopted. The elevator had a camera so she kept it up once the doors closed. The Siris while being approximately 10 feet across could only rise up a couple feet on their tentacles, so both Peter and Katriel had to to stoop in the elevator that was barely five feet high inside. It did make it easier for her to whisper in his ear.

“Nice work. Its an hour until lunch so I hope you can do that all over again. At lunch we have a twenty minute window, tops, before everyone squirms back trying to impress the boss. Now kiss me.” Peter turned and took Katriel’s face in his hands. He turned her face up to him and kissed her full lips deeply. She had made it clear, during planning, that his tongue better stay in his mouth so instead he dropped his left hand, sliding it down her back to grab her ass, pulling her tighter against him. Her own hand slipped beneath his robe and around his side, which he liked, but then she pinched him, hard. He kept kissing her anyway, and was still doing so when the elevator doors opened. They were only briefly regarded from the cubicles on the floor, full of worker bees all churning out as much productivity as possible in order to advance.

It seemed like he met the entire floor in the next hour. Katriel was just a mid-level clerk, but the Siris took this as an opportunity to show how clever and open-minded and nice they were. None of which was true, but the boss might be watching. The non-Siris workers on the floor acted more normally, but eventually they made it to the boss’s clear-walled office and went in. Katriel introduced him to one of the larger Siris he had seen, a female with a darker green color than the rest who was apparently getting ready to spawn a brood. 

“Tun?” she gurgled at him. “We don’t yet have an ambassador to Tun. With my upcoming spawning event, something like that could be quite a coup for me. Perhaps I can take you to lunch and we can discuss the possibilities?”

“I would enjoy that greatly.” Peter said smoothly. “But first perhaps you could point me in the direction of the bathroom?” They walked and squirmed around the corner and he went in to be faced with the Siris idea of a bathroom, which was four aquarium-like tanks with filters running on high. Fortunately there was a separate stall for more humanoid forms and he ducked in there and waited. And waited. It was better than 10 minutes before he finally got the signal.

“Let’s go, Quill!” Katriel slapped the door open. “We’re lucky she’s gravid and has to eat. She was salivating over the ambassadorship and not as put off by the descriptions of Terran digestive biology as I was. T minus 12 minutes.” They walked quickly to the elevator but this time Peter took out a small signal blocker from the inside of one his large sleeves and hit the button just as the doors started to open. With the camera nonfunctional, Katriel took out a passcard she had swiped before her “vacation.” With this they toggled up from the 8th to the 22nd floor, which was entirely dedicated to a single high security vault. While they climbed, Peter lifted the ceiling tiles from the elevator and brought them down. Poking his head inside the elevator shaft, he affixed explosives to the cables of the elevator. He replaced the tiles just as they arrived on the floor and they stepped into the antechamber of the vault. Katriel hit a toggle for a lower floor as she left the elevator. The signal blocker continued to scramble the cameras, but managed to trigger a separate alarm apparently tuned for that sort of thing. Katriel swore but Peter just triggered the explosive charges rendering the elevator useless.

“Five minutes for security squirmers to get up here!” Katriel reminded Peter. He just winked at her and strolled over to the free-standing control panel for the vault doors. The locks were a Siris proprietary design but they were fairly unimaginative. Shucking off his robe, he rolled up a sleeve and began peeling gadgets from where he had glued them to his arms. Three gadgets and two minutes later they were inside. Katriel pointed Peter to the drawer inside the vault and he picked it easily. Katriel grabbed the device - in a small steelcase, about six by eight inches - from the drawer and they headed back to the elevator doors. Together they pried them open three inches and then Peter held them while Katriel found the release that sprung them open the rest of the way. Peter then detached some of the straps crossing his tunic and rearranged them. The straps actually wrapped around his torso and over his breeches, seeming like a fashion affectation but forming a harness. When he rearranged the extra straps on front it formed one for Katriel, and she stepped into it, after unraveling a length of rope from around her midsection. Peter cinched her tight against his body while she threaded the rope through the peak of the harness between their bodies, tied a knot, and looped it around the control panel. When she was grabbed the case and was ready, she nodded at him and they edged towards the elevator shaft. They stood at the edge of the shaft, weight inside the vault but heads and shoulders leaning inside the shaft, and Peter counted to three. On three, Katriel hit the release to close the elevator doors again, and they jumped.

They had been limited in the rope that would fit inside Katriel’s clothes, but the rope she brought had an extremely high tensile strength and was very stretchy. It stretched from ten feet to more than thirty, until they hung right in front of the elevator doors on the 19th floor. Peter hadn’t been able to get Katriel to tell him where she got it, but he wanted some. They repeated the struggle to open the elevator doors. The floor on the other side was clear, the workers unable to return from lunch quickly with the elevator out. Once the doors were open, Peter stretched out his legs and pushed off against the wall on the sides of the doors, setting them to swing by the rope. He pushed off a couple more times, and when they had some good momentum going, he waited until they swung back towards the floor, and pulled the release on the harness. They landed hard on the floor of the 19th level on their right sides, and slid a little. As soon as they stopped, Katriel wriggled out of the harness and jumped up to cut the rope, pull it down, and close the elevator doors. By that point Peter had managed to shake off the landing (a bit hard for him in the 1.4 G gravity, it was beginning to catch up with him), rearrange his harness, and grab the case. They ran to the other side of the building and the emergency exit.

The Siris, being squirmy tentacled beings, did not have staircases. Instead the emergency pathway was more of a ramp with two switchbacks per level. It was slick and had a rivulet of fresh water running down the middle (the better for them to slide up and down) and the sides were textured for traction of non-Siris beings who worked in the building. They listened carefully to make sure the first security response had passed above their position before entering the pathway. They could hear the sound of the Siris suckers detaching as they climbed up to the 22nd, a funny slurping sound. Once they were clear, they pelted down the textured sides as fast as they could while still being quiet until they heard more slurping approaching. They ducked through the door of the next floor, the 12th, and waited for them to pass.

Once the next set went by and made it up a couple of the switchbacks, Peter and Katriel ducked back into the pathway and moved quickly down the rest of the floors. On reaching the third floor they stopped their hurried pace and began to stroll calmly down, catching their breath. Katriel passed him the rope and Peter tied a short loop from the steelcase’s handle, and then slid the steelcase under his billowing tunic, against his back. The loop of rope went around his neck. It was barely visible when he finished. Peter deactivated the signal jammer on the second floor, and when they reached the ground floor Katriel crossed from her side of the pathway to his to duck under his arm. They walked calmly into the lobby. The single security detailee left downstairs was busily trying to explain the broken elevator as people returned from lunch, and they walked calmly out the door and straight back to the Milano. The de-docking, launch, and reaching post-atmo was a tense process but entirely anti-climatic as they hit outer space proper and Peter set the hyperspace for their next destination.

They had several days aboard the Milano as they headed for the sale. Peter spent it alternately trying to charm Katriel so she wouldn’t kill him later and peeling the dried Siris mucus off various surfaces. Peter finally got Katriel to relax a fraction on the second day when he stopped mentioning his various exploits and asked her if she had ever seen anything more disgusting than the Siris. He had been afraid to ask her about her exploits in nuking planets from space, but every race liked to share its opinions, enlightened or otherwise, about the other denizens of the galaxy. She mocked him openly for his disgust regarding the slimy, squirmy Siris until he pointed out that on Terra, such things only lived underwater and were very poorly understood and thus had terrified his race for ages. 

“There must be something similar for your race.” he said. “Something you logically understand but hold a deep terror for in the back of your mind. What tales do you tell young Rajaks to terrify them into behaving properly?” As he watched she went rigid, and he knew she had an answer.

“My people are most repulsed by insectoid races.” she said. “Brood-kind, KLKLK. When I was a youngling, Beta confederation worked closely sometimes with another confederation. We often shared resources and I was schooled with many of their younglings. We had separated and us Betas were sent on a reconnaissance mission while they attempted the usual hostile takeover. They went after a planet that hosted KT’KN.”

“I’ve seen a few of those.” Peter said. ”Very small, about the size of my toe. Round, with six legs. They seem harmless, except for the toxic venom.”

“So we all thought. What we failed to realize was the extent of their psionic powers. Their queens are very powerful and their telepathic transmissions can span multiple star systems. The confederation destroyed their colonies along with everything else on the planet, but it was already too late. The KT’KN queen knew why they were there and had signaled for help. As our fellow Rajaks harvested their spoils, millions of teleport globes landed among them, on the planet and on their ships in orbit. KT’KN flooded our people, determined to avenge the planet. And they did. Hundreds of Rajaks died, mostly from the nerve toxin. One sting won’t kill us, but they stung some hundreds of times. And worse than that, they invaded the minds of the weaker individuals and manipulated them to fire on each other. Beta confederation watched via screens as our entire sister confederation was wiped out quickly and painfully.” Katriel took a deep breath, and shook her head. “We never would have gone to their aid, of course. We might share resources, but only so both sides benefited. Rescuing a few survivors would have hardly been a benefit to Beta confederation. Once the KT’KN had abandoned their ships, we reclaimed them for our own. But we learned again that the cooperative power of the insectoid races is not to be underestimated. It is not something our race can easily understand and one we can never duplicate. It is repulsive to us. That, and the fact that most insectoid species are so… crunchy. There’s nothing grosser than going to kill something and hearing it snap and crush beneath your weapon.”

“I feel the same way about squirmers like the Siris.” Peter confided. “That slurping sound as they made their way up the emergency pathway? Blargg gah.” He shuddered, and Katriel actually smiled a little at him in understanding.

It was much later in their ship day and Katriel was sleeping in one of the bunks when Peter heard her thrashing and shouting in her sleep. He carefully removed the weapons she still wore before going to shake her awake. He still regretted it though. Before she had fully awakened she had pushed him to the floor, landing bodily on top of him with one arm on his throat and the opposite hand grasping for the knife that had been in an unseen sheath a moment before. His head hit the deck and a clanging sound filled his brain, but he used his size and strength to roll them over so he was on top, pinning her to the floor with his body and her arms over her head with his hands. He watched the sleep and panic clear from her eyes and… a flush spread up her neck and face. He spoke calmly.

“I’ll let you go you’re ready to be calm and promise not to kill me.” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“You had better release me immediately, Quill. You must have permission to touch me in such a manner or be trying to kill me, because touch me like this again and I will most certainly be trying to kill you.” Peter let go immediately and stood, offering her a hand. She ignored it pointedly, getting up on her own. She immediately started replacing weapons in various holsters.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “But you were having a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it? Or have a little nip of something?”

“A little nip of what?” she asked, still not looking at him. She had finally given up the idea of killing him that day. That blasted Yondu had arranged with the buyer to deposit half the price in each of their accounts. She had waited for news that the Beta confederation could arrange another buyer, and was prepared to kill Quill and take the item if necessary. But M’Kee had been unsuccessful in finding another buyer - most intelligent ones being unwilling to deal with Rajak confederations directly. She had been ordered to follow the plan as it had been arranged. Killing Quill would have no benefit if they couldn’t sell the item without him. Freed from watching for weaknesses to exploit in a fight to the death, she should now be trying to further develop him as an asset for her people. His skills could come in handy again. So she had responded to his questions. However, they had produced in her a violent nightmare she hadn’t had since a youngling, of being swarmed and falling under hundreds of toxic stings. To awake from that to find the very attractive Quill pressed against her was disorientating. And intriguing. Taking him to bed might be the best way to develop him as an asset, and she had already decided she wouldn’t mind. Once he learned his lesson. He had gotten too familiar with her twice now, first with the ass grab in the elevator and now with stripping off her weapons in her sleep.

Quill was already producing a bottle of some brown liquid and some semi-clean glasses at the table in the center of his ship. When she nodded at him, he poured them both a glass. She sat at the table and tossed hers back, and was surprised at the burn in her throat as it went down. A couple minutes later a warmth started to manifest in her belly. It wasn’t bad. She looked at him and he recognized the signal to pour her another.

Peter was very glad he had swiped two bottles of the Terran whiskey from Yondu, the way this pirate drank. After pouring her second round, he got up and turned the stereo above the bunk on, volume low. It had been cued to “Fooled Around…” and he sat back down at the table, letting Katriel enjoy her second round more slowly. 

“It was just the KT’KN.” Katriel said eventually. “Do Terrans have recurring nightmares that return long after you thought you were past them?”

“Of course,” Peter said, “I normally dream of… things that happened in my childhood. Before I left Terra. Even the most ruthless of races are susceptible. What do you think the Siris dream in their nightmares?” Katriel snorted a short laugh.

“Getting passed over for promotion. And drying out. They do okay out of the water on Yormot, where its so humid. But if you want to make one shake in their slime, describe to them a desert planet. That’s actually how I got my supervisor to leave finally. I described your “principality” as a dry solar farm. Her skin went four shades paler. Its funny, water is such a simple thing… but it means everything to most lifeforms, and more to the Siris than most. Speaking of fluids, though, what is this crap we’re drinking?” 

Peter started describing to her how the beverage “whiskey” was made, and then they moved on to other topics. They sat and talked until about half the bottle was gone and they drifted to a companionable silence. Katriel studied Quill, studying the shadow of hair growing on his face. It was so different from the hairless faces of Rajaks, and she wondered if it would be soft or prickly. He leaned a little closer, swaying a bit in his chair. She was so intent on pondering the texture that she almost didn’t notice he was leaning in on purpose until his lips brushed hers. She grabbed his upper arm in a crushing grip - her hand only wrapped partway around it - and kicked at the chair underneath him. His weight was pitched forward, invading her space, so when the chair vanished he dropped straight to the floor as she let go of his arm. He landed with a hard “oof” noise on his side, and then rolled over, wincing, to look up at her, still sitting calmly in her chair.

“You didn’t ask my permission.” she reminded him coolly. 

“Oh.. uh… may I have your permission?” he asked, climbing to his feet. The whiskey dulled some of the hurt of landing on the floor suddenly, but he was sure he would feel that tomorrow. She stood, looking up at him, and paused.

“The job is not yet done, Terran.” Katriel responded. “Ask again when we’ve been paid.” She brushed past him, and headed up to the flight deck. “Sleep off your whiskey. I will wake you before we reach the buy.” Peter watched her climb the off-set stairs, and then shook his head and headed for his bunk. 

Katriel was good to her word and woke him an hour before making atmo on Xandar. They weren’t meeting in the capital city, with the usual Broker, but instead traveled to a small island forest preserve. They dressed in casual clothes, to blend in with the tourists, and Katriel carried the case in a backpack as she followed Quill to the meeting place. It was a small boardwalk cutting through a swamp. They had to hike about three miles along a trail to get to it, leaving behind most of the tourists.

When they arrived there was one lone Krylorian at the info kiosk midway on the boardwalk. At Quill’s signal, Katriel started digging in her backpack, piling things from it around her on the boardwalk. She set the case down close to her, lid up, and pretended to keep digging in the backpack as if she was looking for something. Meanwhile Quill checked his bank account. When the deposit arrived, he nodded, and Katriel stopped to check her accounts on her info watch. Success. She packed all items except the case back into the backpack, and she and Quill turned around to retrace their steps. It was almost more straightforward when no one was trying to kill each other.

With every step from the drop Peter grew a bit more relaxed. It must not have been profitable for Katriel to kill him. His neck was sore from all the swiveling his head had done on the way to the drop. He half expected that the Rajaks would have figured out the meet and set up an ambush. After about a mile back, he called to Katriel to stop. 

“I enjoyed working with you.” Peter half lied. It was enjoyable for the half when he wasn’t worried about being double crossed. “Now that the job is over, may I have your permission to kiss you?” Katriel scanned the area. They were alone, for the moment. She nodded. She had expected a kiss like the one in the elevator - open mouthed, too familiar, with groping hands. Instead, Quill started the kiss slowly, keeping his mouth mostly closed. His lips were firm but gentle and he waited until she tentatively touched her tongue to his lips to open wider, deepening their kiss and entwining their tongues. And he waited until she leaned into him to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer against his body. He did nothing else, and eventually their kiss wound down deliciously. He pulled back and arched an eyebrow at her. 

“ I’ve got some credits burning a hole in my pocket and we’re about an hour from the best hotel in Xandar. I don’t know when you’re getting picked up, but if you have some time to kill…?” 

“Beta confederacy was almost half a quadrant away when I messaged them yesterday to pick me up on Xandar. They won’t be here until lunch time tomorrow at the earliest. And M’Kree says we might have another job for a man of your talents. Speaking of lunch though, if we’re going to a hotel, we’re ordering room service and you’re paying. You owe me after that swill you fed me aboard your ship.” 

Peter was more than happy to spring for food, but he didn’t know about continuing to work with the Rajaks. The next job probably wouldn’t be so straightforward, and if it was profitable even Katriel could decide to kill him yet. But he agreed, “All the room service you want, babe. But no work talk until the morning.”

When he woke the next morning, he surveyed the wreck they had made of the hotel room. Eventually they ended up on the bed, but it was missing most of the bedding, and he lay on his back over an exposed mattress with his left arm under Katriel’s midsection. There were broken dishes across most of the floor, but hardly any food. They had demolished most of the room service, and most of the room. He slowly began to slide his arm out from under the girl, a millimeter at the time. Eventually he freed his arm and watched as she sighed and settled deeper into the mattress. He rolled to his right, reaching for his coat and his pants at the foot of the bed. He froze when he felt several sharp pricks in his left ribs.

“Where are you going?” Katriel purred. She had grasped a stray fork from somewhere in the sheets and had it pressed into his skin. She was actually drawing blood. “We have another job to discuss.”

“Just the bathroom, babe.” Peter told her calmly. And without moving. If she turned the fork it could slide right between his ribs and into his lung. She studied his face.  
“You don’t need clothes for that.” she said, and waited. 

“Well, I like to be showered and dressed before I talk business.” he said. “It’s less distracting that way.” Katriel removed the fork from his ribs, and turned over on her back to watch him. Peter carefully began collecting clothes from the floor, looking all the time for - there! Katriel’s rope from the heist was spilling from her hiking backpack. He bent down to retrieve a sock nearby with his left arm, gathering the rope with under his growing pile of clothes in his right arm. Then he started to head toward the bathroom. When he drew even with the room door, though, he threw it open and ducked out. The stabbing pain in his left ribs increased as he pulled the door closed behind him and dropped everything but the rope, tying one end to the door knob as he pulled it closed. He stretched the rope as tight it would go, to the doorknob across the hall, and tied it around that doorknob. He finished a knot just as Katriel reached the inside of their room door. With the rope fully stretched and anchored across the hall, she couldn’t muscle the door open. Katriel started to yell and pound against the door as Peter looked down. The damn fork was sunk in his left ribs again - she had thrown it from across the room. Fortunately it hit with the tines perpendicular to his ribs. He pulled it out with a grimace, and jumped into his pants and shoes. He was pelting down the hall to the stairwell when he heard the door start to splinter.

It took Katriel too much time to break through the door entirely. By that point Peter had run down the stairs, outside, and flagged down a cab. She arrived after him at the Milano’s berth just as he had been cleared for take off from the spaceport. She saw him wave, still shirtless and bleeding, as his ship lifted off and she stood watching. Damn Peter Quill.

Peter flew to rendezvous with the Elector, just on the moon side of Xandar. Being with the Ravagers for a bit would help stave off any retaliation from the Rajaks. This story was going to earn him much cred among the Ravagers and several more bottles of whiskey from Yondu. He let his stab wounds bleed all the way there.


End file.
